


pennies and dimes

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Get together fic, Louie is a Love Guru, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Launchpad needs some advice, so he calls Dewey for help.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	pennies and dimes

**Author's Note:**

> so I've been binging Ducktales again and with the buddy system ep I realized I ship Launchpad/Fenton so much. Then in the shadow war, Launchpad makes a remark about calling Dewey when he needs advice, and now we're here.
> 
> this is my first ducktales fic, go easy on me!

Dewey groans as he rolls over, stretching out his arm from the warm cocoon of his blankets and slapping it against the bedside table. He silences it before rolling to face the wall again, curling tighter in on himself. _It’s too early for phone calls_ , he thinks before attempting to drift back off.

He’s just on the brink of falling asleep once more when his phone starts to vibrate insistently. Dewey has half a mind to chuck the stupid thing out the window but knows he’d only get an earful from Uncle Scrooge about being wasteful. Groaning once more, he rolls back to the bedside table and brings his phone to his ear. Groggy with sleep, he mumbles, “’lo?”

_“DEWEY!”_

Dewey winces and drops the phone onto the bed. He can still hear Launchpad speaking rapidly, even without the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Launchpad,” he says quietly. He yawns. “What’s up?”

Launchpad pauses mid-ramble and takes a deep breath before starting over. _“So you remember how, uh, you said I could call you any time for advice?”_

“Yerp,” Dewey says as his eyes drift shut.

_“Yeah, and you remember how I mentioned a while back that there was, uh, someone I…liked. Like, like-liked? A lot?”_

Dewey nods even though Launchpad can’t see him. It takes him a few moments to remember to respond. “Yeah, Launchpad, I remember.” He yawns again and snuggles against his pillow. He doesn’t bother trying to keep his eyes open, and Launchpad still talks loud enough that Dewey can rest the phone by his pillow and hear him just fine. “What about it?”

Launchpad takes a deep breath. _“So, that person is Fenton. Do you remember Fenton? I think he works for Mr. McDee, now? And also he’s Gizmoduck, but you aren’t supposed to know that. I’m not supposed to tell people, cuz Fenton says it’s a big secret.”_

Dewey doesn’t bother pointing out that he already knew. “Great, Launchpad, that’s great.”

_“What’s great?”_ Launchpad asks.

“You liking Fenton,” Dewey says slowly.

_“Oh! No, it’s not great.”_

Sighing, Dewey asks, “Why is it not great?”

_“Because…”_ Launchpad gulps. _“It’s scary. Liking someone. It’s all these gross feelings and there’s way too many of them, I have no idea what to do! What if he doesn’t like-like me? What if he hates me?”_

“Fenton does not hate you,” Dewey says, and he’s reasonably confident it’s true. “You should just talk to him.”

“Who are you talking to?” Louie hisses from his bunk.

“Launchpad,” Dewey mutters, “he called for advice,”

“Well shut up, we’re trying to sleep.”

“Actually,” Dewey starts, before saying to his phone, “why are you up so early, Launchpad?”

_“Huh? Oh, I dunno. Just couldn’t sleep, I guess. Fenton sent me a message this morning when he got to work, and it woke me up and I couldn’t fall back asleep. He goes in really early, you know, cuz he’s like, a super genius or whatever.”_

“Uh huh.”

_“He mentioned something about doing lunch outside of work today and I don’t know if he meant he wants me to come with or if he was just mentioning it, like, just to mention it, you know?”_

“Uh huh.”

_“What do I do, Dewey?”_

Dewey opens his mouth, even though he’s not really sure what to say—this is _way_ above his paygrade, frankly—when a hand snatches his phone from beside his pillow. He listens as Louie takes over.

“Launchpad, LP, my man,” Louie vamps, even half-awake as he is, “here’s what you gotta do.”

_“I’m listening!”_ Launchpad shouts from his end of the line.

“You _should_ take Fenton out to lunch,” Louie says. “Show up at his lab with flowers, offer to take him out, and drive as _carefully_ as possible. You hear me? It’ll work like a charm.”

_“I don’t know, what if he says no?”_

“Throw the flowers in the ocean and act like it never happened,” Louie says simply. “Oh hey, our beds are trying to devour us, gotta go, byeeeee.” Louie ends the call, Dewey’s phone beeping softly, and then powers it down—another series of chiming beeps. Then, he tosses the phone across the room.

“What if an emergency comes up?” Dewey asks.

“Who cares,” Louie says, and frankly, Dewey is too tired to answer.

* * *

Dewey mostly forgets about it until that afternoon when he realizes he should grab his phone before they take off on their latest adventure. Ignoring Louie’s ribbing—not _all_ of them are attached to their phones like lifelines—Dewey digs it out of the pile of clothes Louie tossed it into that morning. It’s mostly dead, but he can charge it on the drive, and what’s way more interesting than the battery percentage is the 12 voicemails waiting for him. All from Launchpad.

It’s then that he realizes he hasn’t heard from Launchpad since that morning. Dewey hasn’t seen him around the manor, Beakley hasn’t mentioned him, and there haven’t been any ominous crashes around town. which is either a very good or very bad sign. Sighing, Dewey opens the first voicemail.

_“Hey Dewey! It’s Launchpad. Launchpad McQuack, the pilot. Your best friend? Anyway, uh, I’m about to drive to see Fenton. I don’t think I can do this. But you’re not answering, so I guess I should try and do what you would do. What_ would _you do?”_

Dewey shakes his head and deletes the message and skips messages two through eleven, pulling up the most recent one. It’s from just over an hour ago. It could be Launchpad crying, which would not be great. It could be Launchpad screaming in excitement, which is better but might still kill Dewey’s ears.

As he hits ‘play,’ a thought strikes him— _what if it’s a butt dial? What if it’s Fenton and Launchpad and nope nope nope—_

The voicemail starts with a frantic rustle. _“Tell Louie he’s a genius! Or was it Huey? Who did I talk to this morning?”_

Fenton’s voice joins Launchpad’s. _“You said it was Louie.”_

_“Awesome,”_ voicemail-Launchpad says, _“thanks, babe.”_

Fenton’s giggle is pitchy and embarrassed, and Dewey could’ve lived without hearing it, to be honest. He forces himself to tune back in for the last bit of the message.

_“Anyway! Tell Louie he’s a genius! Love you!”_

The line clicks and Dewey pockets his phone. “I’m not telling him he’s a genius.”

“Who’s a genius?” Louie asks from the door. “Who are you talking to?”

“Me, I’m a genius, c’mon, let’s go!” Dewey ushers Louie out of their room but pulls his phone out to fire off a quick text.

**To LP:** _congrats. plz never call me before 10am ever again_

**From LP:** _YOU GOT IT DEWEY!!!!_

A second message follows the first: a selfie of Fenton and Launchpad, blurry and messy but Dewey’s pretty sure they’re both grinning. He grins back at the picture and doesn’t realize there’s a shadow looming over him until it’s too late.

“It worked!” Louie crows, “I’m a genius!”


End file.
